the truest of colors
by another moment gone
Summary: One-shot. "Weaving in and out of people’s lives, colors of all different parts of the rainbow each reflect one’s personality." -J.H.Q.S.316 *R&R*


_the truest of colors_

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Weaving in and out of people's lives, colors of all different parts of the rainbow each reflect one's personality.

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_Yellow: __**Claire Lyons**_

**What a tangled web she binds, and what a complicated color she carries. Yellow is innocent and anything but dumb.**

**Love Drunk **_–Boys Like Girls_

"I—er, I didn't mean anything I did with her; it meant NOTHING—"

She scoffed, "How much more pathetic can you get, Cam?" His head was bowed in shame and she couldn't have been more smug—or hurt.

"That's right—nawt much more pathetic." She finalized, getting ready to dismiss this…_cheater_. She caught herself sounding like the confident, beautiful, _Massie Block_; so she kept up that Massie-esque.

"But it's just she _kissed _better than you." Cam blurted out, obviously tipsy from a few shots.

Claire spat right on his face, her eyes vicious.

"Fuck _you_."

And with that, she marched off with her heart torn and ripped at in yellow Keds…her _lucky_ ones. **Yeah right.**

:::-:::

She sat on the bleachers trying to stop the shedding uncontrollable tears that rolled down her cheeks. Her cheeks were a rosy red shade and her eyes were blood shot.

"Hey. Are you alright?" A tender male voice asked.

It was none-other than Cam's best friend: Kemp Hurley, dubbed: Player of BOCD high.

"Dandy." Claire spat bitterly.

Kemp looked remorseful and angry, "Cam's an ass. He doesn't see how…" Kemp seemed to search for the words correctly. "Lucky that such a," he paused. "Beautiful girl could like him so much."

She sniffled, "You're just saying that."

Kemp's intense, army green eyes were wide and incredulous, "Of course I am…" She looked like she was about to cry. "NOT!"

She looked at his playful eyes. She had rumors about this boy, how he got so many girls—and broke so many hearts—and how he's _never _serious. She should've expected that. So maybe, a small side of her wanted a life full of happiness and games.

Fun games.

She playfully played along and punched him in the arm gently. "Ouch. " He replied, a grin on his face.

She returned the grin even though mascara stains were running all along her face. And even though her hair was disheveled and all over the place: she felt like the luckiest beautiful girl in BOCD high.

_Yellow_ also was a **hopeful **color.

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_Red: __**Alicia Rivera**_

**Stuck in a world where beauty is what counts most, she doesn't even know the first thing about what genuine emotions **_**are**_**. She just endures the cruelty of uncertain and unpredictable peaks of disloyalty. **

"Alicia—it was fun with what we had, and you're totally hot and shit, but I found a better girl to get with." Kemp Hurley bluntly told her, his eyes trailing after a group of girls wearing short jean skirts; not even sparing her a second glance. As if she was trash.

"So we're over?" She asked, her brown doe-like eyes, wide and sad.

"There never _was _an 'us'."

* * *

:::-:::

She scrambled through the hallways, all eyes ignoring her but indignant guys wolf whistling at her; usually the attention she received from guys heightened her confidence. But today was different.

Today she had no idea what was in store for her besides shallow boys hitting on her and male teachers only giving her good grades because she let them do stuff to her that is completely and utterly _illegal_.

She walked through the hallways with a frown etched permanently on her beautiful face, her features with a full blown frown, and unusual paleness.

She dropped all her stuff and girls snickered and guys stared as she shamefully had to bend down and get her stuff from the marble floor.

For once, she just wanted to be a normal girl who got grades the _normal _way; A girl that had to _fight _for a guy rather than automatically winning because she was much more 'hotter' than the other girl. And for just _once_ she wanted to be called 'beautiful', not 'hot'.

"Here, lemme help you." A Spanish accent, faint and kind. Alicia was suspicious of the boy's kind actions but she couldn't help but notice how…_real_ and um, _genuine_ he was towards her.

And not once when she was picking up her stuff that toppled over, did he stare at her chest or butt.

"Um, do you want to go out sometime?" He blurted; his Spanish boy-esque was adorable and the Ralph Lauren shirt he tugged on was Alicia's favorite. Already.

"Yeah—I'd like that."

_Red may be the color of lust, but it's the truest of true colors of emotions: love. _

* * *

_Blue: __**Kristen Gregory**_

**Thought to be the smart, athletic, pretty member of the exclusive Pretty Committee, ran by the most confident prettiest girl in school, Massie Block; blue was the color of shadows; plainly viewed by everyday wild-life. She wanted more, more than one word to describe her.**

"I like your shirt." Dempsey Solomon complimented. He had always had a crush on her since, like, pre-school, but Massie considered him a LBR (loser, beyond, repair), which meant he was not datable to anyone with 'class'. But in 8th grade, Massie Block changed her mind and went for Dempsey; who evidently still had a crush on Kristen—a crush that Massie was too blind to see.

But being the good friend she was meant to be, Kristen politely told Massie she was wrong. But as usual per say, Massie just shook her off like she was a piece of lint.

So in 10th grade, after a year of flirting up many storms—Dempsey saw the light of truth in Kristen's aquamarine eyes: there was no hope for _'us'_, and asked Massie Block out. She gleefully accepted and told the Pretty Committee that she saw this coming from miles away.

Kristen simply nodded her head like a bobble-head and agreed vigorously—just like the rest of her friends.

But when Dempsey dumped Massie 3 months into their 'deep relationship' –as Massie lightly put it—Massie swore to make the girl's life hell—whoever Dempsey dumped Massie for: because Massie was _so _sure he dumped her for someone _better._

Massie growled in frustration when she dismissed the lists of names of the girls that were _kinda _pretty. But in Kristen's eyes, _were _pretty. Sometimes gorgeous.

"She's good at hiding," Massie snarled viciously, her amber eyes flashing. "But she's going to run out of alliances. I'll make good of that."

Fearing little, Kristen stood up from table number sixteen and stood above her alpha. "Massie—wake up and get your head out of the clouds—he likes _me_." Kristen exclaimed, her eyes wide and serious.

Massie let out an indignant snort, and grinned at Kristen. "I never thought you were one of comedy, but yeah, I'll give you this much: You're funny, Gregory."

Kristen stared in strange disbelief: _was Massie __**really **__this shallow? _

"HE DOES!" Kristen repeated, her voice higher than usual. Massie laughed again.

"Stop joking about, Kris. He obviously doesn't, so quit trying to make me laugh to distract me from stressing; awwh, what a kind friend you are," she giggled and cooed. "You are _such_ a good friend to me, Kris." Her eyes were serious and Kristen felt guilt travel throughout her body.

Why did Massie have to crush on the boy—and ignore the facts that the boy liked Kristen—even though it's not Kristen's fault: why did she feel so guilty? It wasn't rational, and it wasn't fair.

"Fine: Ask him." Kristen snapped; her eyes tense and annoyed at her friend's shallowness. Massie looked pointedly at Kristen, her smile swiped clean from her flawless face as she sauntered lithely to Dempsey's table.

Kristen didn't want to watch her own victory rise though. Others may wonder why Kristen wouldn't allow herself to feel_ an ounce _of victory course through her veins: simply because she wasn't the cruel, smug type of _jerk_ people sought out the girls to be.

She didn't like to see her best friend hurt.

* * *

:::-:::

Massie was rather empty and saddened by such news, but was even more depressed when Kristen decided to date Dempsey. It was only fair, and after all, Kristen _did _ask if it was okay if she said yes to Dempsey's relentless invitations.

It was only fair: all's fair with love and war.

_Blue was not just a plain color, but a beautiful and plain—but beautiful—color that outshines many other colorful colors. _

* * *

_Purple: __**Massie Block**_

**The color known to be royal and gorgeous: confident, quirky, bright, and downright lovable. The **perfect **color. Imagine filling **_**those **_**shoes.**

Her heart had been torn from left to right so many times; eventually she just quit dating all together. She despised Kristen on some level for being such a good friend to Massie after all these years—she didn't understand it still to this present day—and was so hurt by Dempsey leading her on like that.

But being the alpha she was meant to be—or so her parents kept repeating to her—she locked up her inner emotions and changed for the 'better'. She was meaner, quirkier, and much more ego-fueled.

She didn't like that girl she had to be—but she had no choice.

* * *

:::-:::

"Why are you so _mean_ to people, Block?" Derrick Harrington demanded, his eyes flashing; the friendliness of brown eyes, all gone.

"Because I have to be!" Massie snapped, her eyes glaring right back at his. No one contested with Massie's glaring, but of course, Derrick was the ultimate exception: _for everything_.

7th grade she swore off of boys: she made him an exception just in case there was a sliver of chance he'd come back to her—but of course, she'd never admit that to anyone.

Rather then winning her Massie-esque glaring contest, she had to turn her head away in surrender, her eyes watering with frustration and emotion-overload. Alphas weren't supposed to cry: especially in front of boys.

"Block, are you crying?" Derrick simpered, his puppy-like eyes staring earnestly at her. She looked away from him, her arm jerking away from his tender touch: she doesn't let _anyone _comfort her.

"No." She snapped, her amber eyes meeting his by accident. Biggest mistake ever.

"Why are you crying?" He ignored her previous answer.

Massie took a deep breath and let years and years of bottle up emotions, spill out.

"Because," she sighed impatiently. "It scares me. You see me…for me. Not what I _have to be_. And I guess—you intimidate me, rather then making _you _intimidated." She whispered honestly. He stared in awe.

They didn't need words though.

Leaning in hesitantly, his lips brushed against hers contently.

And even if it was just for a few minutes of bliss:

She wouldn't change a thing.

_Purple was the color of royalty, but it also happened to be the color of honesty: and genuine realization._

_Green: __**Dylan Marvil**_

**Born to live up to her mother's high expectations, she had to envy everyone around her. Envy… the green monster that overwhelmed her every night.**

She envied Massie for so many reasons: Massie got the boy that Dylan had a crush on for _months_. Massie was the most confident, beautiful, smartest, and _wittiest _girl in high school. Dylan wanted all of that! Maybe then her mom would appreciate her daughter.

Dylan was _so _jealous of Kristen Gregory for be so _smart _and _athletic_. Dylan couldn't run a mile without panting and wheezing by the end of it. Kristen looked gorgeous, even playing a sweaty intense game of soccer. Dylan was only good at burping and punching guys.

She had a green monster towards Claire Lyons. Claire had the innocent vibe that caused _everyone_ to love her at first sight: even Massie's second crush; Cam Fisher.

Dylan was _never _able to get a boys' affection that Massie was smitten for before!

Dylan couldn't get over the fact how _incredibly _beautiful the Spanish Beta, Alicia Rivera, was. She had long chocolaty mane-like hair with doe-like eyes and the best style in the grade. Alicia had a fainter echo of Massie's traits and her very own ones too. How did Alicia manage to get kicked out of the Pretty Committee 3 or so times, and _still _get welcomed back in?

* * *

:::-:::

"Dylan you're way too sentimental for your food," Massie noted as she watched Dylan nervously chow down chips. "You're not fat at all, but you keep telling yourself fat because you eat so much—puh-lease, Dyl, you have the _best…fastest_ metabolism **ever**."

Dylan beamed of course, but her best friend's statement wasn't exactly…true. Dylan always felt sick after eating so much food so she ended up throwing up the remains of her last meal.

It wasn't intentional…

"Yeah Dyl, did you see Plovert checking you out tonight?" Claire seconded; her robin blue eyes shining as she danced with her new boyfriend, Kemp Hurley. In 7th grade, Kemp kept calling her a pig along with Plovert and sending her pig pictures and snorting at her whenever she was around them.

Dylan shuddered at that memory.

"Let's have a drink." Dylan's boyfriend, Cam Fisher offered. Claire eventually forgave Cam for cheating on her—years later of course—and eventually, Dylan fell for the two eyed boy. He kept her safe and feeling secure. For the most part, anyway.

Cam led her through the house where many bodies were grinding in slimy uncomfortable ways.

That's what separates Dylan from the rest of the Pretty Committee on so many levels: She was a prude, and she wasn't pretty—even though the Clique's name was "Pretty" committee, how was Dylan supposed to keep up with that too?

She simply wasn't. That's the thing. Dylan Marvil was supposed to be the obnoxious red head with emerald green eyes that were unpredictable and uncanny for many things.

_**Green may be the color of true envy, but emerald green is the spacious color of defiance. **_

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**Review.**

**-J.H.Q.S.316**


End file.
